


Spare Me Your Secrets

by RoedValkyrie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crossdressing, First Dates, Insecure Dean, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Making Out, Overbearing Sam, Sassy Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5996734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoedValkyrie/pseuds/RoedValkyrie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the secrets Sam thought Dean was keeping from him, this certainly wasn't one he ever expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Made for the 2015 Supernatural Reversebang.  
> Once again I chose to challenge myself and write something that I had never done before, and with the inspiration that I got from my amazing artist's fantastic work I managed to write the longest piece of fanfiction that I've ever done.  
> It took a long time to finish and I never thought that I would end up writing as much as I did, but the story moved and flowed on its own and I am very pleased with the end results. This was a fun experience - it was interesting to work with a genre that I hadn't explored before, to dive into mindsets and feelings that I hadn't previously used in any of my other works.  
> Thank you to my amazing artist - miilchtee - and urge you all to go check out her wonderful artwork (http://crystaljensen.tumblr.com/post/139281486753/reverse-bang-2015-spare-me-your-secrets-this-is) - the art will be added to the appropriate chapters later today.  
> I also want to thank TheProfoundBlade for helping me when I got stuck - you can check out her work here on AO3, you won't be disappointed.  
> Thank you for choosing to read this story, I hope you'll enjoy it!

_“She just disappeared, you know? One moment she was walking down the path and then-,”_

_“We’ve had civilians reporting strange lights by the lake, but I’m sure there’s a logical explanation to it. I bet you it’s nothing more than a couple of teenagers who-,”_

_“Oh God, I can’t believe he’s gone. We were going to get married in June. I can’t – I just,”_

Sam groaned quietly to himself as he slowly extracted himself from the Impala, reaching back inside to fetch a take-away baggie from the passenger seat. The last seven hours had been absolutely grueling. He’d driven around town interviewing anyone who had the slightest connection to the disappearances in the park, police officers, potential witnesses and distressed relatives to the victims, and yet he didn’t feel like he was any closer to solving the case.

It was usually a two-man job to interview this many people, but for some reason his brother had decided it would be more efficient if they split the task of interviewing and researching between the two of them. Sam would have preferred sitting in the library with his nose buried in books and obscure websites, but his brother had been very insistent on taking research duty this time and Sam couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. Over the last few weeks his brother had been in an increasingly sourer mood, and Sam didn’t want to trigger another fight when they had a case to solve. It was better to just let Dean have his way. He just hoped that his brother had gotten something useful out of the day, because all he had gotten out of the many interviews was a pounding headache.

He stepped up to the door and quickly unlocked it, shouldering it open as he made his way inside.

“Dude, if I had known I’d have to interview eleven people I’d-,” he stopped mid-sentence when he was met with a dark, empty room. Strange. His brother was supposed to have been home at least two hours ago.

Sam walked over to the bathroom and knocked on the door once, waiting a moment before he opened it to look inside. Empty. He checked his cellphone to make sure his brother hadn’t left him a message, but there was nothing new there either. For a moment he entertained the thought that Dean had chosen to stay longer at the library to get more research done, but then he remembered what kind of person his brother was and immediately banished the thought.

He reached for the light switch and flicked it on, walking over to the small dining table to put down the bag of Chinese take-away. A small yellow piece of paper caught his attention and he plucked it from the laminated table top, eyes scanning his brother’s scrawling handwriting.

‘ _Went out. Don’t wait up.’_

Oh.

“And you couldn’t be bothered to text me instead?” Sam mutters under his breath, annoyance seething in the pit of his stomach as he crumbled up the small note and threw it in the general direction of the waste bin. Good thing he wasted money on food that wasn’t going to get eaten.

He sat down heavily on one of the cheap chairs and reached for the laptop, idly clicking through the recent tabs to check what articles and sites his brother had visited throughout the day. There were a few links to a local newspaper, a pointless clicker game and-

“You have got to be kidding me,” he mutters under his breath when he noted the links to not one, but two porn sites in his recent activity tab. It was quickly becoming clear to him that the amount of research his brother had managed to do today was at a bare minimum. When he checked Onenote he was left equally disappointed. The document was more or less empty aside from a few links to the articles that Sam had already seen and a vague list of creatures that could possibly be their culprit. Sam groaned with frustration when Dean hadn’t even tried to cross out one of them.

Dean must think he’s stupid.

Sam had spent the majority of the day listening to one outlandish story after the other, taking and comparing notes whenever he had the opportunity to do so and gone out of his way to make sure that he’d bring home dinner for both of them. And when he finally returns home - expecting to find an annoyed and tired Dean waiting for him - he’s met with a single note and a computer that told him all he needed to know. Dean had spent most of the day doing nothing and left early so he could go out and get drunk on his own.

But if Dean thought he could play Sam that easily he was sorely mistaken. Two could play that game.

Sam pushed himself to a stand and headed straight for the door, stubbornly choosing not to leave a note behind, and walked back to the Impala. He got inside the sleek vehicle - making a point by slamming the door just a little too harshly - and slowly peeled out of the motel’s parking lot to head towards the center of town.

“How dare he,” he curses quietly under his breath, grasp tight around the steering wheel as he turns onto one of the larger streets. It wasn’t unusual for Dean to head out on his own every once in a while, but this time Sam wasn’t having it. Not only did Dean go out behind his back but he also neglected to work, leaving the biggest workload for Sam while he sat in a library clicking virtual cookies and pin-up girls until the first bar opened. On any other day he probably wouldn’t have minded it. Sam honestly enjoyed the few nights he occasionally had to himself whenever his brother went out. But he was angry, his head was pounding and Dean’s attitude had been gnawing at him for weeks now. If Dean could go out and drink himself senseless then so could he.

He could stay out all night. Maybe he would find another motel and spend the night there, leaving his brother to worry about his brother and his precious car. He could ignore what messages he’d get from Dean, decline his calls and return home late the next morning. Without coffee. The more he thought about it the more he liked the idea.

It didn’t take him long to find a place that suited his taste. The dive bar - The Tipsy Cow - wasn’t the largest on the street, but there were a few vacant parking spots that didn’t require Sam to potentially scratch the Impala’s paintjob. He might be angry with his brother, but he didn’t have a deathwish. With a slow swerve he backed into one of the vacant booths before he killed the engine, leaning forwards over the steering wheel to have a good look at the place. The outside was pleasantly anonymous with a faded coat of paint covering the bricks, the few windows there heavily tinted with neon lights flickering through the thick glass. Sam passed a couple of patrons who were standing by the door with cigarettes and beer in hand, greeting them with a curt nod before he pushed past the door.

Despite the run-down exterior the bar was surprisingly crowded. There were a group of men playing pool in one end of the room, the small cubicles and tables that were scattered about the place occupied by smaller and larger groups of people. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol and booze, the room pleasantly warm and the loud background noise of human chatter made him feel welcome despite his still lingering headache.

He steered towards the least crowded place at the bar and climbed onto one of the tall stools, letting his feet rest on the metal rungs and planted his elbows on the wooden counter top. The people at the bar seemed like the kind of folk who would come here regularly. There were a few of your stereotypical drunken men - most pushing sixty, all of them with a beer and a shot of whiskey in front of them. At the far end of the bar there was a younger man who was clearly drowning his heartbreak in tequila and jägerbombs, sobbing pitifully into his small glass. There was only one woman at the bar. She was standing close to Sam with her back turned towards him, two young men clearly trying their very best to impress her, but judging by her body language she wasn’t impressed. Just by looking at her Sam could tell that she was oozing confidence. Her long blonde hair swayed slightly as she cocked her hip against the bar, her posture straight as she faced the two “suitors” face on. Sam couldn’t help but smile when she said something that had one of the men’s expression falter slightly, his ego clearly bruised. Ouch.

“Welcome to The Tipsy Cow,” the bartender drawled, catching Sam’s attention. She was slightly younger than him, her expression tight but not unfriendly. “What can I get for you?”

“Just a beer for now - take your pick,” Sam flashes her a smile and is pleased to get a small, polite one in return as she moves to the tall fridge to pick him out a beer. He subtly reaches for one of the small baskets of peanuts that are littered around the bar and pulls it closer to him, regretting that he’d left the chinese takeout untouched back at the motel room. 

As soon as Sam has his drink placed in front of him he just zones out. He lets himself wind down after the long day, eyes closed as he idly listens to the many conversations happening around him, picking up bits and pieces of dialogue here and there. His mind briefly wandered to his brother, but he didn’t get to spare him another thought when his attention zoned in on the men standing next to him as their voices raised over the general buzz of conversation in the room.

“You have amazing lips, you know that right?” 

“Yeah - they would look even better wrapped around my cock though.”

“Now boys, that isn’t very original,” the woman huffs, clearly unamused by the two men. Sam masks his chuckle with a cough, fingers picking idly at the label on his bottle as he listens in. 

“Come on baby, how many drinks is it going to take for you to come have some fun with us?” 

Sam spared the small group a glance, watching as one of the men reached out to stroke his hand up along the woman’s side, pushing up the edge of her dress shirt ever so slightly. 

“Or maybe it would help if we showed you-,” 

A loud, singing slap broke the silence and Sam turned to fully face the small group, watching as one of the men took a step back from the woman. He was clutching his cheek - the surrounding skin already blooming a stinging red - and his friend’s expression had gone from confident to one of utter rage. 

“You bitch,” He reaches out to grasp a strong hold of her wrist, yanking her off of her stool to come to a stumbling stance in front of him. Sam is out of his seat in an instant, stepping up to the two men as he straightens up to his full height. There’s a brief flicker of hesitation in the man’s eyes as he sizes up Sam before his gaze returns to steely rage, his grasp tightening around the woman’s wrist. “This doesn’t have anything to do with you man. Walk away if you know what’s good for you.”

“Even though it's none of my business, that’s not a way to treat a woman.” He replies in a low voice, watching as the slapped man steps up to his friend and reaches out to grasp the woman by her other arm.

“I don’t need a knight to defend my honor,” Sam hears the woman replied, her voice tense as the two men tighten their hold on her. She’s rough when she yanks her arms back, freeing herself from one hold but her wrist remained locked in the man’s tight hold, prompting her to growl angrily at him. “You better let me go if you know what’s fucking best for you.”

“Or what, you going to slap me too?” He laughs loudly, but the noise is quickly turned into pained whimper when the woman’s fist makes solid contact with his nose. When he staggered back she pulled her hand free, stumbling backwards until she made solid contact with Sam’s chest, making her tense up even further as she clearly prepares herself for another punch. 

“Easy, I’m not going to touch you,” he assures, gaze focused on the two men who were busy tending to the bloodied - and quite possibly broken nose - the woman had just given one of them. “You pack quite the punch.” 

The woman turns her head to look back at him, her full lips drawn back in a confident smirk, but her expression quickly falters when she meets Sam’s gaze, the colour completely drained from her face.

“S-Sam?”

At first, Sam wasn’t sure he’d heard that right. And heard it the right way - because it couldn’t possibly be…

But that voice was far too familiar, too rough to be anyone but -,

His train of thought was interrupted when one of the men made a swing at the woman. He quickly took a step back and yanked her with him, leaving the man stumbling forwards until he bumped into one of the tall bar stools. Sam drops his hands from the woman’s arms and quickly reaches for her wrist instead, roughly pulling her with him as he heads for the door, followed by the angry shouts and curses from the two ego-bruised men. He doesn’t let go of her until they’re standing by the Impala, adrenaline racing as he finally takes a good look at the tall blonde. A moment passes between the two of them, shame washing over her face as she averts her gaze from Sam’s.

  
“I think you have a lot of explaining to do, Dean.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam consults a friend for advice.

“Dean, wait-,” Sam sighs when the door is slammed in his face, eyes closing as he hears the bathroom door open before shutting roughly a second later.

It wasn’t as if Sam hadn’t expected this reaction.

During the ride home from _The Tipsy Cow_ his brother hadn’t spoken a single word, stubbornly staring out the window with his body twisted away from Sam. He’d tried to talk to him, increasingly more desperate for answers to what he’d witnessed, but his brother remained silent. As soon as the Impala had pulled into their parking spot Dean was out the  door, storming away and leaving a confused Sam in his wake.

He quietly enters their room and slips out of his shoes, draping his jacket over one of the chairs. Sam’s gaze briefly lands on the bag of untouched and cold takeaway, laptop hovering dangerously at the edge of the laminated table, before he turns his attention to the closed bathroom door. A small part of him wants to kick it down and shake his brother until he finally gets some answers, but he knows that won’t do him any good. Dean won’t talk unless he wants to.

He sighs quietly as he takes the last few steps over to the bathroom door, knocking a few times as he waits for Dean to make some sort of acknowledging sound. The silence on the other side of the door is deafening.

“Dean,” Sam calls out, knocking a little more firmly this time. “Come out please, we need to talk.”

Still no response. After a long moment Sam hears the sound of the shower, water pattering against tiles. He feels anger seethe in the pit of his stomach as he knocks once more in rapid succession, the bangs loud in his ears.

“You ignoring this isn’t making it better. It’s not going to fix it.” His voice raises, anger weaving through his words as he listens to the continuing spray of water and the distinct lack of acknowledgement from his brother. “Our relationship is already strained enough Dean - this isn’t fucking helping!”

Sam holds his breath for a few minutes. When he gets no response from Dean he slams his fist against the door before he leaves the room in a flurry of rage, the heat of anger boiling him from the inside out. He steps outside into the crisp night air and heads for the edge of the parking lot, not caring that he isn’t wearing his jacket or shoes, and takes a seat by the motel sign. His toes curl into the small patch of dried grass as he settles, knees pulled up so he could fold his arms on top of them. The bright neon lights hurts his eyes, making him tip his head down into the cradle of his arms. He lets the noises the of night wash over him as he tries to extinguish the anger he still feels simmering inside of him.

This night just hadn’t gone the way he had thought it would.

He had never thought he would see his brother like that. Never once had he thought that his brother would want to do such a thing, exposing himself to toxic men who did nothing but give him sleazy compliments and free drinks. Another surge of anger washed over him and he lets his fingers curl into his sleeves, groaning loudly as he tries to control his temperament. He wants to yell at Dean. He wants to grab him and shake him back and forth, want to scream and demand the answers he needs, the reasons he wants to hear for all of this confusion. But he knows he won’t get it.

When Sam feels his toes go numb he finally reaches for his phone. He slowly scrolls through the small list of contacts, finger hovering briefly over Bobby’s contact name. Whenever Dean or Sam needed to vent about the other Bobby had always been the person they turned to. For so many years they had bitched and moaned at Bobby through the phone, venting until their raging anger had been tamed into a mild annoyance. Bobby had taken it like a champ - until he’d had enough, and then he certainly made sure to let the boys know that they were being pathetic drama queens. Talk it through with each other, stop bitching at me and learn how to talk things through. Sam couldn’t help the sad smile that spread across his mouth, thumb dragging over the screen before he double tapped Castiel’s name. Even though the angel had no experience with relationship he was always patient when it came to listening, and that was all Sam truly needed right now.

“ _Hello Sam.”_ Castiel’s voice was low and droning on the other end of the phone. The receiver was picking up the wind, the gentle rustling of leaves.

“You’re not at the bunker.”

“ _No. I am in Nebraska.”_ The statement was so monotone and matter-of-fact that Sam couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head as he reached up to rub a hand across his face. _“What is the matter Sam?”_

He worries his bottom lip for a brief moment, teeth tearing at the dry skin. Castiel was close to both of them - a trusted friend, a solid ally - but Sam was still fiercely loyal to his brother. As much as he wants to just throw all the cards on the table and explain to him what he saw tonight, he isn’t sure his brother wants Castiel to know of this yet. If Dean wants him to know he’s certain his brother will eventually speak of it himself, but for now Sam would keep his secret for him. He hesitates for a moment longer before he finally starts talking, speaking quickly and in an endless stream once he gets started.

“ _So, Dean has kept a secret from you,”_ Castiel deadpans after Sam has spoken for five minutes straight, allowing the hunter to breathe in before he continued talking. “ _And now he has locked himself in the bathroom and refuses to talk to you.”_

“Yes, exactly. Nothing new, I know.”

“ _Not exactly,”_ Castiel’s laugh is brief and dry before he clears his throat, voice low in Sam’s ear. “ _You know your brother usually does not talk about personal things. He likes to keep things hidden away until they - eh - comes back to ‘bite him in the ass’. I know you like to think that you are not like that, but I can assure you that you are equally guilty of the secretive treatment, Sam.”_

He makes a quiet noise of agreement. Even though he knew he was better at talking things through than his brother was he too found himself keeping important things secret from others. A lot of trouble could have been avoided throughout their lives if the two of them had just been honest and frank with each other to begin with, but keeping stubborn secrets to spare the other had become a habit in the Winchester lifestyle.

“ _So, is his secret so grave that you would not be able to forgive him? I have been watching over you two for years now. I  witnessed all the secrets you have kept from one another - from petty little things to secrets that could potentially  have meant death for either you or others. Is this secret that has been exposed worse than any of the secrets he has kept from you in the past?”_

It doesn’t take a lot of consideration before Sam shakes his head. If he could forgive Dean for keeping his angelic possession a secret, he could forgive him for dressing up as a woman on the sly.

_“I thought so. You know your brother isn’t keen on talking. So I would suggest that you do not push him for an answer, but rather try and find one yourself. I cannot help you Sam, but perhaps you can easy your mind  yourself. Your brother will eventually talk - he just needs time. I do not know what this secret is, but I am certain that you and your brother have overcome greater rifts than this, Sam - am I right?”_

“Yeah, yeah you’re right,” Sam sighs quietly, closing his eyes as he lets a brief moment of silence settle between the two of them. “Thank you Cas, I needed to hear that.”

“ _You’re welcome. Good night Sam.”_

The call disconnects before he can say good-bye and Sam removes his phone from his ear, staring blankly at the screen.

He’d never thought he would see Dean like that. His brother had always been, at least in his eyes, a very masculine person. He’d surround himself with pretty and willing women at the bar, flirting with everything that had a pulse and a plunging neckline. On the rare occasion that a man would toss a flirtatious - but usually just downright sexual, comment his brother’s way, he would always brush it off with confident humour and leave it at that. But tonight Dean had been clearly enjoying the attention he was getting from the two men - the compliments, the sleazy comments and the free drinks that followed. He had seemed so confident in their company, more confident than Sam had seen him for a long time.

Sam blinked, straightening slightly where he sat.

But maybe that was it. Maybe it was nothing more than a means for Dean to get that boost of confidence that he’d seemed to be lacking lately. The men were clearly eager to throw themselves over him, showering him with compliment upon compliment until Dean’s ego was surely close to bursting.

But then again, it could be something else.

Sam weighed explanation upon explanation - everything from the desire to simply dress as a woman to identity crisis, back to confidence boost and the to the possibility of a new, strange kink of his - but he never managed to settle on anything that seemed quite right to him. What he does know is that no-matter how shocked he had been tonight, no matter how angry he was with Dean for keeping something like this hidden from him, he didn’t want it to break them apart.

Sam pushes himself off of the ground with a low grunt and makes his way back towards the motel room. His joints were aching from sitting in the same position for too long and he his toes were completely numb from dragging along the cold dirt. The shower was still running when he stepped inside the room, the door to the bathroom stubbornly locked to keep Sam out.

He hesitated for a brief moment before he finally stepped up the door, knuckles gently knocking against it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean breaks down.

He couldn’t breathe.

The night had been going so well. It hadn’t taken him long to find the kind of bar that he liked to frequent; some place that wasn’t flashy and where the drinks were cheap and plenty, and finding someone willing to buy him his first drink had been even faster.  The men who approached him were nothing out of the ordinary – standard single men who were close to pushing forty, clearly lacking any real skill when it came to flirtation. He always humored them, accepting their compliments and the cheesy pick-up lines while still oozing intimidating confidence as he pursed his lips around his straw. It was a fun game to play. The men would leave the bar disappointed and with a lighter wallet, he would leave pleasantly buzzed and with his ego massively stroked.

But tonight hadn’t gone the way it should have.

Slowly he pushed himself up from the tiled floor, standing unsteadily as he slowly started to unbutton the tight jeans. The denim was soaked through and clung to him like a second skin, pulling at him as he slowly peeled the pants off and tossed them aside. His socks followed suit, along with his underwear and the plaid button-up he’d been wearing. He reached up to remove the soaked wig from his head, holding it in his hands for a long moment as he stared down at the mop of wet, blonde hair. The long strands clung to his fingers like tentacles, some staying behind when he tossed the wig roughly against the shower wall. It impacted with a loud and wet smack before it slowly started to slide along the tiles, leaving behind loose strands and a wet smear of water. He reaches up to rub his hands along his face, his fingers streaked with black from his running mascara and the red of his lipstick. He angrily scrubs his face until he feels as if his very skin is going to fall off.

The shame was gnawing painfully at his gut as he stepped back under the cold spray of water.

It had all seemed so harmless. He’d go out every now and again, whenever he could sneak out without his brother noticing, and have a night to himself. There would be flirting, teasing and free drinks and then he would leave the men hanging there, sighing after him as he left the poor fools disappointed. He would find a place to change, usually a gas station or a diner, before he’d go back to the room him and his brother shared and creep into bed. Most of the time Sam would still be fast asleep by the time he returned, but sometimes he would wake at the sound of the door. He’d never ask any questions, just offer his  brother a tired stare before he would turn over and go back to sleep. He probably just thought Dean had been out chasing tail. The fact that Dean would rather have Sam think he was cheating on him rather than knowing the truth didn’t help with how ashamed he felt.

He turned the cold spray off and slowly emerged from the shower, fumbling blindly for one of the scratchy towels on the rack. His soaked clothing was left in the stall, the wig still slumped against one of the tiled walls. With numb fingers he tied the towel around his waist and stepped up to the sink, stubbornly keeping his gaze away from the barely fogged-up mirror.

How could he face himself after this?

What he saw in the mirror was what had spurred this on to begin with. He was getting old – heck, if he managed to stay afloat for a few more years he’d be turning forty – and even though he still had his charms and cocky smirks, he felt time creeping up on him. When he and Sam usually visited bars he would have countless girls throwing lust-filled looks towards their table, swirling their straws, biting their lips and rubbing their legs ever so subtly together, but now they usually sat alone with the odd girl or two approaching them. Even though Dean wouldn’t go home with a woman now, even though he had to admit that he missed the company of a feisty lady, he still missed the massive confidence boost it gave him when so many girls were clearly interested. Now the girls he’d usually have looking his way were looking to younger men, leaving him to sit alone with Sam where he would drink whiskey until his brother decided it was time to drag him home.

Keeping it secret hadn’t been easy but he had felt it was the right thing to do. He had never been good at explaining how he felt, and in this case especially he wasn’t sure how he could explain it to Sam. Heck, he wasn’t even sure if Sam would understand it if he tried.

Maybe he should just run away. Grab his stuff, the keys to the car and drive off into the sunset. There was no way that this wouldn’t end in utter heartbreak anyway. Driving off now would spare both himself and Sam from the awkwardness and the pain of having to face the other. Sam wouldn’t have to tell him how disgusting he found him, how he didn’t understand why his brother – the good soldier, the ladies’ man – would dress up like a woman and mooch free drinks. Dean wouldn’t have to hear all that said to his face. Imagining hearing it hurt enough.

He tilted his head upwards and finally met the weary, red-eyed gaze of his reflection.

“ _Dean?”_

He sucks in a sharp breath, eyes widening as he stared blindly into the mirror.

 _“Dean,”_ Sam’s voice is softer this time – not as aggravated as it had been earlier – and Dean finds himself relaxing ever so slightly. He eases his grasp on the side of the sink and closes his eyes, focusing on his brother’s voice.

“ _I know you probably don’t want to talk right now, but just please – hear me out, OK? I’m sorry I came off so harsh before. I just… I want you to know that even though I never thought I would end up in a situation like this, I’m not angry. Well, maybe only a little angry that you’d keep something like this secret, but I get it.”_

A long moment of silence follows. Dean’s heart feels as if it’s slowly but surely ripping itself loose from its tethers to climb up his throat.

“ _Dean – I have no clue why.. But I want you to know that this hasn’t made me lose my respect for you. No-matter what you look like you’re still my brother, and I support whatever choices you make. Well, at least the choices you make in regards to this. I might not understand why you’ve done this, and I don’t expect you to be able to explain it yet. But we can work through this. We’ve gotten through worse things than this and still stuck together. This won’t be the thing that breaks our bond, Dean – I promise you that much. It’s just a small bump in the road and I’m willing to work through it if you are.”_

He hears his brother exhale loudly in the other room before his fingers drum lightly against the wooden door.

“ _When you’re ready to talk you know where I am. Good night, Dean.”_

The sound of bare feet followed, the footsteps heading further and further away from the door until Dean heard the distinct sound of bedsprings. A soft click followed; then a gentle groan and the soft rustling of sheets. After a few breathless moments the room was completely silent.

Dean finally pushed himself away from the seat and stepped over to the toilet, flipping down the flimsy lid before he took a seat on the cold plastic. He settles his elbows on his thighs so he could rest his head in his hands, eyes closed as he gently rubbed his calloused fingertips against his eyelids. His heart was still racing wildly in his chest.

‘ _This won’t be the thing that breaks our bond.’_ He mouthed the words quietly as he carefully ran through each and every word his brother had said to him. With every moment that passed he felt the heavy pressure against his chest ease, his body slowly but surely relaxing. Sam was right. A fresh wave of shame washed over him once more how could he even have considered abandoning Sam over something like this? Of all the things that they had gone through over the last two decades this couldn’t be the thing that tore them apart. It just couldn’t be. They had done unmentionable things for one another, had made poor choices and kept secrets that had nearly torn them apart for good. After all the things they had gone through Dean _wouldn’t_ let this be what broke their bond.

He’s not sure how they’ll make this work, even less sure how he would ever attempt to explain his situation to Sam, but damn him he’s willing to give it a try.

It would be another twenty minutes before the door to the bathroom slowly opened. The lights were left off in the small motel room as Dean made his way to his bed, reaching underneath the cold sheets to grasp the pair of boxers he usually slept in. He pulled a threadbare shirt over his head before he carefully climbed into bed, quiet as he shifted underneath the sheets. The only sound in the room is that of his own breathing and that of Sam’s quiet snoring, the quiet tick of a clock timing with his own heartbeat.

Dean slowly turned onto his side so he could face his brother in the dark, just barely making out the shape of Sam’s sleeping silhouette on the other bed. His gaze followed the shape of his shoulder, tracing down to where his arm was hanging over the side of the bed with his hands nearly scraping along the longhaired carpet. With a calculated shift Dean reaches out for his hand, letting his own fingers fit in between Sam’s longer ones in a gentle hold. His thumb brushed lightly along the side of his brother’s hand.

They could get through this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The masterpost to the wonderful art (made by miilchtee) can before here - http://crystaljensen.tumblr.com/post/139281486753/reverse-bang-2015-spare-me-your-secrets-this-is


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finds out that old habits are hard to get rid of.

_The first time Sam held a girl’s hand was when he was thirteen years old._

_The Winchesters had been staying in a sleepy old town in the depths of Texas for a good three months - a blessedly long time if you asked Sam, a torturously long time if you asked his older brother. It had allowed Sam to settle into something that felt like routine, to connect to people that he tentatively started to refer to as friends - friends that he would have to forget about and leave behind eventually. It had bothered him more when he was younger. He had been so vulnerable then, yearning for contact from people who weren’t Dad or Dean, wanting normal friendships where he went home with classmates to eat PB and J sandwiches while watching Disney Afternoon on the TV. He’d yearned for the normalcy he’d seen on TV and movies. Now he knew that getting that normalcy wasn’t really possible for him._

_But on one sweltering afternoon in early June Sam Winchester got a taste of normalcy._

_Lucy Lawrence had been one of his first crushes that didn’t include cartoon characters or actresses on TV - to this date Dean still liked to tease him about how smitten he’d looked when he first laid eyes on Lola Rabbit in Space Jam. He wasn’t sure how he managed to collect the courage to do it, but after they had packed up their Science books he’d went up to her and stuttered a request to walk her home. She’d given him a bright smile and bobbed her head, high ponytail bouncing behind her. Sam offered to hold her bag for her - something he thought was customary after watching so many teenage flicks on TV - and walked by her side in silence, listening to her as she talked about Backstreet Boys, homework and how annoying Suzie Walker was. He was nervous. His palms were sweaty. He kept rubbing them against the rough denim of his hand-me-down jeans. Should he reach for her hand? What would happen if she pulled away, could he bear the sting of rejection? What would they say at school tomorrow if-,_

_“Sam,” her voice had been soft and confused, a thin brow perked as she looked him over. Sam was certain the entire neighborhood had heard him swallow his nervousness. “Are you OK? You’re acting… Strange.”_

_“Don’t I always act strange?” He’d tried to joke, but his tone had been too sincere and the look of pity that flashed over Lucy’s face hadn’t escaped his attention. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry, I’m just…”_

_“Hey,” she’d smiled - braces flashing in the sun - and reached out to take his hand, her fingers dry and smooth against his sweaty fingers. “It’s OK to be nervous, you know?”_

_Sam had felt like his heart was going to beat out through his face. Her touch was gentle and soft, the innocent intimacy of it exactly what he’d thought it would feel like all those times he’d seen boys and girls walking hand in hand on the small, grainy TV screens. They had walked hand in hand all the way back to her neat little suburban house, an awestruck smile stuck to Sam’s face as he walked back across town to the motel he stayed at._

_When he saw his father and his brother leaning against the Impala his smile faltered. He never saw Lucy again._

In his few relationships that followed he always found himself reaching for their hands.

When he and Jess would walk to class he would make sure to keep their fingers intertwined, their joined books resting heavily on his other arm and a lovesick smile plastered to his face. He’d hold her hand over the dinner table when they ate out, squeeze it to make her stop when they were walking in traffic and subconsciously seek it out when they slept. The pattern repeated itself later with Ruby, although she found the gestures overly romantic and slightly ridiculous for a man of his size and lifestyle, and with Amelia. He even found himself striving for that intimate feeling you got of holding another person’s hand with the few one-night stands he’d had over the years.

Now that Sam found himself in what he would like to think was a proper, long-term relationship he didn’t dare reach for Dean’s hand, even if every fiber in his body wanted to. His brother had always made it clear that just because they had crossed the line between siblings and lovers that didn’t mean that they were going to indulge in what he referred to as “girly shit”. There was no touching in public aside from what they had always done - no signs to onlookers that the two might be more than just friends. Dean rarely kissed him spontaneously. Heck, Sam couldn’t think of the last time that Dean had given him a kiss that wasn’t just a simple lead-up to getting a hand job. Sharing a bed was completely out of the question. Even after Sam was left sticky and sated Dean was quick to roll out of the bed to climb back into his own, leaving Sam in ruined sheets that smelt of sex and sweat. It didn’t bother Sam. He knew these were the terms that he had to deal with and he still loved Dean - and Dean still loved Sam.

But now everything had changed.

Sam had seen a softer side a brother than he ever had before. He could see how vulnerable he was beneath that tough exterior he always kept up, could see how much he wanted to be taken care of despite his cocky nature and need to always take the lead. Sure, Dean had never meant to expose this side of himself to his younger brother, but now that the cat was out of the bag Sam didn’t see why he couldn’t indulge him and give him what he needed.

The first time Sam dared reach for his brother’s hand was when they were working a case in in a sleepy Minnesota town, a month and a half since the reveal.

They had settled into a sleepy routine at the bunker – it wasn’t often that they left the comforts of their new underground base unless they needed to restock the pantry or Dean needed to take the Impala for a spin in order not to go completely stir-crazy. Sam made sure to check what local newspapers were published online, kept their phones charged in case someone called about a case. Castiel was a great help too, popping in and out of the bunker whenever he pleased and provided intel for the two brothers, although with his dwindling energy Castiel had taken a liking to relaxing in the bunker’s vast library, reading book after book after book.

As much as Sam enjoyed the quiet time, and the fact that there seemingly weren’t too much supernatural activity that demanded their immediate attention , he did miss the open road and the old rituals him and Dean shared whenever they were on a case. He didn’t feel like him and his brother were as close in the bunker as they were when they were on a case. They always had the luxury of having so much space between them now. It was a strange thing to get used to when you were used to living in each other’s back pockets for most of your life.

When news of a djinn terrorizing a small town in Northern Minnesota Sam immediately jumped on the case, hiding his eagerness to get out of the bunker from his brother who seemed less than enthusiastic about leaving the comfort of what he referred to as home.

The djinn seemed to have a preference on young women who frequented the local bar; all of them clearly looking for someone to spend the night with or possibly a future boyfriend. So far four girls had gone missing over the last month, one of which had been found in an abandoned store, drained from blood and bone-dry. It was a pretty straight forward case, one might even say that it was relatively easy, given that they didn’t need to spend days trying to figure out what exactly was kidnapping these girls, but they still needed to catch it and figure out where the other girls were. If they were lucky they might even find the last of them alive.

Given that neither brother had the desired traits the djinn were looking for, and they weren’t particularly keen on asking a civilian to pose as bait, Dean had suggested dressing up for the part. It had embarrassed him greatly to suggest this in front of his brother, but the stubbornness had been clear on his flushed face and Sam knew that Dean could handle it, even if he felt a pang of protectiveness that willed him to talk Dean out of the idea. After that Dean didn’t leave the motel room without his long blonde wig falling beautifully over his shoulders.

Sam walked alongside his older brother in silence, gaze occasionally drawn to the way his high ponytail swung behind him. Even though the bitter November air bit at every exposed inch of his skin he swore he caught a whiff of sweet, warm Texan summer as they walked side-by-side down the narrow footpath. His brother was wrapped up tight in winter clothes, his usually bulky leather jacket replaced with a thigh-length brown trench coat that was cinched at the waist, giving his body the illusion of an hourglass figure. He wore a pair of tight jeans underneath, knee-high brown boots and a thick scarf that was tucked up past his mouth to keep his chin warm. His cheeks were flushed red from the cold, eyelashes curled and darkened by a thin coat mascara. Even though he was still getting used to seeing this version of Dean, Sam thought he looked beautiful.

“I swear to God next time we’re working a case in the middle of winter it better be in Florida,” Dean grumbled under his breath, keeping his voice low so others wouldn’t hear the pitch of his voice. He reached up with his left hand to fix the earmuffs he was wearing, stubbornly pulling them down so they covered half his cheeks as well. “Or maybe just stay in the bunker next time.”

“No-one else was going to take the case - and besides, you were going slightly stir-crazy in there, weren’t you?”

“Not stir-crazy enough for walk around in North Dakota in the middle of November.” He sighed, shoulders drawing up as Dean tried to shield himself further from the cold. Sam remembered how Jess had done the same whenever they’d walked to campus during particularly cold winter days. “Where is that stupid library anyway?”

“We just have to cross the road over there and down the next two blocks. Here,” Sam said, stopping at the crosswalk and subconsciously reached down to take his brother’s hand in his, long fingers fitting in between Dean’s shorter ones, and offered the chilled palm a soft squeeze. It had been something he had always done with Jess when they were out walking together. He’d squeeze different sides of her hand depending on what way they should turn, whether they should stop or go. She’d found it sweet and caring, Sam had always felt a little silly for guiding her along like so.

It wasn’t a habit he had ever shared with Dean.

Sam felt his brother’s fingers stiffen in his hold, clearly surprised by suddenly being engulfed by the warmth of Sam’s hand. Oh God, he’d screwed everything up. He didn’t dare to peek down at his brother, face tinged red with shame as he quickly released his hand again, stuffing his own back into the pocket of his coat as they crossed the street. “Sorry, old habit.”

Dean didn’t say anything in return. The silence was thick between the two of them as they continued to walk. Sam’s face was still blazing with shame and embarrassment. Why he’d suddenly reached for Dean he wasn’t sure - after all, he had always known that holding hands in public had been something that Dean had very strong opinions about. It could be the weather, it could be the way that Dean resembled a huddled-up Jess if he squinted hard enough or it could be the fact that his sub-consciousness thought that the man walking next to him was in fact not a man at all. It could be all those things combined. All Sam knew was that he’d done something he shouldn’t and he felt ashamed for doing so.

“Hey,” the softness of Dean’s voice snapped Sam out of his train of thoughts, gaze flicking downwards to fixate on the pattern in the pavement. He was waiting for Dean to tell him off, to say that he thought that he’d made it absolutely clear to Sam that holding hands just wasn’t something they did. Instead he felt his brother’s fingers tentatively reach for his, sliding along the smooth palm of his hand before he finally fit his fingers between Sam’s longer ones, offering it a soft squeeze as he gently pulled his stunned brother along. When Sam finally managed to pry his gaze from the pavement below him to look at his brother he was floored to see the soft, slightly embarrassed look on the shorter man’s face. Dean’s cheeks seemed to have tinged an even deeper shade of red as he offered Sam a fond, private smile, gaze flicking towards the street ahead of him as he spoke.

“You can do that again, you know.”

When they emerged from the library hours later Sam didn’t hesitate to reach for Dean’s hand.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam invites Dean out on a date - Dean makes as many snarky jokes as possible.

_“You want to do **what**?”_

_Sam’s gaze flickered from Dean’s face to the table, idly picking on a scratch in the old laminate top with one of his fingernails. The question was repeated in a soft mutter, flush spreading slightly over his cheeks. “I want to take you out to dinner.”_

_“We eat dinner together every day, Sam.” Dean says in a matter-of-fact tone, eyes narrowed as he observed his brother pick at the table at an increasing pace. “What you’re saying isn’t that you want to have dinner with me. You’re actually asking me out on a date, Sam.”_

_“Dean-“_

_“On a **date** , Sam. You want to take me out on a date.” _

_“Yes, I want to take you out on a date.” Sam’s eyes finally leave the scratched tabletop to meet his brother’s stare, swallowing quietly at the intensity in Dean’s gaze._

_Dean blinks slowly, still trying to fully comprehend what his brother had just told him. Sam Winchester wants to take him out on a date – a proper dinner date at that. The whole thing is just utterly ridiculous and so unexpected that Dean can’t help but smirk, brow cocking as he regards the embarrassed man in front of him._

_“I mean, I thought you were supposed to bring flowers when you asked someone out Sam, but I see you clearly missed that step.”_

_“I can go pluck you a few dandelions in the parking lot if you’re that keen?” Sam snorts, gaze flicking downwards once more. Even though Sam tried to play it off with humor – giving as good as he got when it came to Dean’s teasing – it was clear to Dean that Sam was getting disheartened by his sarcastic approach to the subject. He bit the inside of his cheeks, letting the silence hang heavy between the two of them for a long moment before he pushed himself up from his chair. Screw it, he would let Sam take him out on a date if he was so keen on it._

_“Alright, let’s go then. Just need to grab my coat and we can head out – do you have a specific spot in mind?”_

_“Ah… Actually…”_

He was no longer sure why he had agreed to do this. It felt as if his feet were rooted to the spot, gaze flickering anxiously to take in the amount of people in the restaurant Sam had picked out. It was a nice place too – no grease stains on the tables, actual candles and a ridiculous floral arrangement on each table – and Dean felt entirely out of place and self-conscious. He had been out in public like this numerous times before – heck, it was even an immense boost in his confidence to stride around knowing no-one would connect his looks to the roughed hunter he truly was – but this wasn’t a scene he would frequent in. Bars and greasy diners were his comfort zones, not restaurants with menus that weren’t printed on a laminated piece of paper. For half a moment Dean expected Gordon Ramsey to step through the kitchen doors to personally escort them to their table.

“Dean, are you alright?” a warm hand smoothed down along the small of Dean’s back, brushing along the cool fabric of his coat before it settled just a few inches over his waist. He turned his head slightly to meet his brother’s worried stare and forced a small smile, gaze quickly averting to take in the restaurant again in an attempt to calm himself.

“I’m just peachy,” Dean muttered under his breath, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as they waited for a server to show them to their table. He fidgeted slightly on the spot, fingers playing with an empty gum wrapper that was still stashed in his left front pocket. With a quiet sigh he finally approached the subject while studying one of the floral arrangements on one of the nearby tables. Of course Sam couldn’t even have picked a place with plastic flowers. “You didn’t have to take me out to an actual restaurant, you know. I like my greasy diner food.”

“I wanted it to be special,” Sam stated matter-of-factly with a soft smile playing across his features once Dean risked another glance in his direction. He reached out to grasp the shoulders of his brother’s jacket and started easing it off of him, folding the garment over his shoulder once Dean had reluctantly shrugged out of it. “I know you would have preferred something more familiar, but since this is an unusual occasion-“

“What you’re meaning to say, is that since this is our first date you wanted to be a proper gentleman and invite me out to a restaurant with actual tablecloths?”

The light flush that spread across his brother’s cheeks was the only answer he needed. Dean barely managed to suppress his smirk when a young server finally approached them with a polite, friendly smile to show them to their table.

_Dean stopped dead in his tracks the moment he stepped out of the small bathroom. He blinked once; wondering if that would make the sight in front of him disappear. When that didn’t work he blinked again and pinched his arm. Still, the man in front of him didn’t disappear into thin air. His brows furrowed in confusion as he took him in, a slight hint of amusement tinging the faint smile that tugged on his lips._

_“What on earth are you wearing, Sam?”_

_The sound of his brother’s voice clearly startled Sam, making him turn to face his brother – who was just fresh out of the shower with a towel stubbornly secured around his waist – with a slightly confused expression on his face. “It’s a suit jacket.”_

_“I can see that Sam,” Dean chuckles and walks over to stand by his bed so he could hoist his duffle bag onto the mattress. He reached inside to pull out a pair of clean boxers and a white undershirt, still taking in the picture that Sam made, standing there in his holed jeans and suit jacket, a pair of pressed slacks resting over the back of one of the chairs. At least he was still wearing one of his countless flannel button-ups, otherwise Dean was unsure of whether they were going out to eat or undercover as FBI. “Why have you dressed up like you’re going to prom?”_

_“Well, you told me yourself that this was a date and I always make sure to look presentable when I go on a date.” Sam replied with just a hint of smugness to his voice and walked over to have a seat at the small dining table, resting his elbows on the laminated tabletop. “I can change back to sweats and a shirt if you want?”_

_Dean regarded Sam for a brief moment before he huffed out a laugh at him and turned away, quick to put on his undershirt and pants before he took a seat on the bed. He leant to the side so he could continue rummaging around in his duffel bag, pulling out a mirror and a small bag of toiletries alongside with the thin net that contained his wig. This would be the first time he would be getting ready with Sam. Whenever he had dressed up previously he would have done it in the bathroom and refrained from joining Sam until he was completely done. It made him feel safe, staying inside the small motel bathrooms to put on the mask that he felt so confident and self-assured in before he revealed himself to Sam. His brother had always offered a smile and maybe even a compliment, but Dean had noticed the flicker of confusion the first few times Sam had seen Dean step out to reveal his transformed self. It was a lot to take in. They had lived together for more than three decades and suddenly Sam has to come to terms with seeing his brother like-. Well, Dean couldn’t blame Sam if he was confused – perhaps even slightly repulsed._

_“Are you OK, Dean?”_

_Dean snapped out of his train of thoughts and quickly fixed his gaze on his brother, offering him a slow blink before he turned his attention to the long blonde wig in his hands. He ran his fingers through the long strands of silky hair, idly untangling a few knots before he bowed his head to fix the wig onto himself. With a practiced hand he swept the hair back and out of his face, sitting back up straight and reached for the mirror to fix the slightly askew wig. He no longer needed a mirror to do this. It had become practice – just like cleaning a gun or sharpening a knife._

_“I’m fine Sam, I just spaced out for a bit,” his voice carried over the sound of rustling compacts and brushes as he pulled out a long brush, the tip soft and faded at the tip after many uses. He reached for a small compact of powdered foundation and settled it on the nightstand that separated their two beds, sweeping the brush through the product before he started applying it to his skin._

_Even though he had initially been anxious about doing this in front of Sam he felt at ease the instant the soft fluff of the brush touched his skin. The sense of peace and tranquility he got didn’t change just because there was another person – a person whom he trusted with his life – watching his every move. He simply lost himself in the gentle touch of the soft brush and the way his reflection slowly but surely changed, his complexion smoothening and his freckles fading. It wasn’t until he heard the bed beside him squeak under Sam’s weight that he looked up from the handheld mirror, meeting Sam’s gaze. “What?”_

_Sam offered him a soft smile as he took in the way Dean’s face was starting to change, expression soft once he finally met his eyes once more. He slipped out of his suit jacket and folded it up before placing it on the bed, clearly set for staying put for quite a while. “You look lovely.”_

 

 

 

As pleasant as the evening had been they both knew that they couldn’t stay in the restaurant forever. When they thought that the downpour outside had turned into a light drizzle they finally vacated their table, moving to the counter where Dean was left slightly flustered when Sam insisted on paying for their shared meal and drinks. It wasn’t because they never paid for each other when they were eating at diners during their trips. Naturally they shared the same budget, so one brother paying for dinner one day and the other paying the next was usually how things went. But tonight it made Dean’s cheeks flush hot and a brief smile flicker across his lips when Sam wasn’t looking.

So this was what being on a proper date with Sam felt like. This is how he would treat the girls he’d dated in the past, gallantly pulling out the chairs for them and insisting on paying their share of the meal. Dean had always known his brother treated women with respect, but seeing him in this setting was entirely different despite the familiarity between the two of them. A small swell of pride bloomed in his chest as he silently admired what a man Sam had grown to become.

His train of thoughts was interrupted when he felt long, dry fingers drag along his palm to slide in between his slightly stockier fingers. The hold was anchoring and warm and brought Dean’s full attention back to the slightly taller man who stood by his side, smiling softly down at him. Without a word Sam led Dean towards the restaurant’s doors, stopping outside under a small cloth canopy so Dean could fix his coat properly around his waist.

The rain hadn’t quite come to a halt yet, but for now it had settled to a light drizzle rather than the loud downpour of rain that had previously drummed against the restaurant’s roof. The street lamps’ warm yellow glow was reflected back at them in the deep, large puddles that had appeared on the road, making the entire street look like a slap of land littered with glowing lakes, disturbed only by the light drizzle of the evening shower. Dean was prepared to step past the overhanging roof that kept both him and Sam dry – after all, the hotel was only a short walk away and they would be able to change into clean clothes within ten minutes if they kept a brisk pace – but Sam stopped him with a gentle pull of his hand.

“What?” You don’t honestly mean to call a cab, do you Sam? It’s just a short walk, don’t be a-,“ Dean blinked, watching as his young brother slipped out of the long black coat he had been wearing and stretched it over the two of them, hunching slightly as he created a makeshift umbrella they could share. A soft snort escaped Dean’s pursed lips, brow perked as he offered his brother an amused stare. “You are absolutely ridiculous, you know that right?”

“Not the first time I’ve been told that,” Sam smiled, enjoying the amused look on Dean’s face when he clearly suppressed a laugh and shook his head at Sam’s soft dismissal. They stepped onto the sidewalk, slowly walking down along the street in the direction of their hotel with Sam’s coat stretched over their heads. “I mean, would you rather get wet – that coat you’re wearing isn’t exactly rainproof.”

“Neither is yours smartass. Where did you get this trick from, _The Notebook_?” Sam’s only response was a snort and a gentle nudge to Dean’s shoulder as they walked, a smile playing across his lips. The gesture was incredibly sweet, albeit slightly cheesy, even for Sam’s standards.

The entire evening had felt as if it had been taken straight out of one of those terrible teenage romance flicks that Dean had watched when he was younger with arm slung around a pretty girl he hoped to kiss during the movie’s climax. He had to admit that he himself had used a few of the cliché romantic gestures that Sam had pulled on him tonight when he had taken Cassie or Lisa out on a rare date, but he had never expected to be the recipient of them. Even though he found great amusement in teasing Sam about the choices he’d made throughout the evening he had to admit that the gestures had warmed him to the core. It was refreshing to be treated like this every once in a while, even though Dean had to admit that getting his chair pulled out for him at the restaurant had made him more than a little flustered.

When the brothers reached a crosswalk Dean turned his head slightly to regard his younger brother, brow perked cockily while a coy smile played across his subtly painted lips. “You’ve really been pulling all the right moves tonight Sam – I mean, pulling out my chair and making sure I don’t get wet, you really are a true knight in shining armor,” he chuckles lowly, seeing the confusion etched across his brother’s features as he regarded the slightly shorter man. “So, should I expect Romeo to kiss me as well?”

If it weren’t for the fact that the brothers were already standing still Dean was certain Sam would have stumbled over his own two feet. An embarrassed flush crept along his features, eyes downcast to the wet concrete as he clearly tried his best to avoid his brother’s sarcastic inquiry. An amused laugh bubbled in Dean’s throat as he reached forwards to press the button so the signal light would switch. They could just as easily have jaywalked considering the street was completely deserted when it came to traffic, but Dean was more interested in letting Sam stew for a minute longer than getting back to the hotel. He could nearly feel the heat radiate from Sam where they huddled together under his jacket, only the gentle pitter-patter of rain against fabric to break the awkward silence.

The instant the traffic signal switched from red to green Sam finally broke the silence between the two of them, voice quiet yet tinged with hope as he spoke up.

“Can I?”

The soft request had Dean instantly freezing up, his right foot hovering over one of the crosswalk’s thick white stripes. After a silent moment he finally pried his eyes off of the crosswalk signal to meet his brother’s gaze, the honesty in Sam’s eyes enough to leave him breathless. The bravado he’d displayed a mere moment ago instantly evaporated. His eyes widened slightly as he searched the soft expression on the younger man’s face for some sort of hint that this was just a joke - just to get back at Dean for the teasing comments he had made throughout the night. But Sam simply stood his ground, patiently waiting for an answer from his increasingly rattled brother while the crosswalk signal flicked back to red.

Dean felt as if his heart was going to pound straight through his ribcage. His throat tightened and his cheeks flushed with a warm glow of red, teeth worrying along his bottom lip. Dean’s uncertain gaze averted from Sam’s to instead fixate on breast pocket of his brother’s suit jacket, his eyes slowly growing more and more unfocused as he let his mind wander. Sam usually didn’t button his shirts all the way up, but tonight he had. Because tonight was special – Sam had said as much more than once over the last few hours. He breathed in deeply, heart still racing like a horse in his chest as he tried to gather his thoughts. Why had such a simple, innocent request rattled him so much that he found himself unable to even look at Sam?

It feels like an eternity had passed when Sam’s shoulders slowly drooped ever so slightly. Dean immediately snapped out of his wandering trail of thoughts to bring his full attention back to Sam, feeling a gentle tug to his hand as the taller man urged him to cross the street.

“Wait,” Dean breathed out the word, feet digging stubbornly into the ground so Sam couldn’t drag him along just yet. His gaze wavered as he looked at Sam’s hopeful expression, eyes slowly lidding as he once more focused on the pearlescent sheen on his brother’s top button. 

Sam had tried so hard – not just tonight, but from the very first time they had shared that one kiss that they shouldn’t. All the things that Sam had put up with during these many months – all the rules that he had set for them, his weird quirks and all the things he had been missing out on that he would normally do with a partner. Sam was trying so hard and never once had he pushed Dean to do something he didn’t want to do. He had always been gentle and careful in his approach as he waited for Dean’s consent. Dean wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve someone like Sam, but it warmed him to the very core and caused a light smile to flicker across his face, eyes crinkling as he once again met Sam’s gaze.

The night had already felt as if it had been taken out of a cookie-cutter rom-com, so Dean might as well seal the deal and give it a decent ending.

With a small step forwards he brought their bodies closer together, his touch slow and calculated as he let his palms caress up along the taller man’s sides. His warmth bled through the fabric of his shirt, muscles taunt under his touch as Dean finally settled his hands on Sam’s chest. Sam’s heart was thumping wildly beneath his palm, matching the rhythm of Dean’s own. A soft breath echoed between them – a brief moment of hesitation shared between the two of them – before Dean leaned forwards to break the last few inches of space between them and set his mouth against Sam’s.

His lips were warm and soft against his own plumper ones, slightly chapped where Dean’s were soft with the lip tint he had used earlier. The kiss was gentle and sweet, so unlike the rough presses of open mouths that the brothers would usually share, teeth tearing at chapped lips and tongues pressed roughly together. A soft gasp escaped Dean’s lips when he felt Sam’s warm fingers slide along the column of his neck, inching upwards until he could stroke his fingers through the silky strands of Dean’s blonde wig, thumb dragging lightly over the curve of Dean’s ear. Dean felt as if his entire body was going to overheat. It had been so long since he had let himself enjoy the gentleness of a kiss, relish in the soft press of lips-on-lips and the maddening touches that accompanied them.

His fingers curled in the soft flannel of his brother’s shirt as he let his head tilt ever so slightly to the side. Their noses brushed together as he settled his mouth against Sam’s once more, earning a delighted sound from the taller brunette when he parted his lips ever so slightly against Sam’s. The coat swept around the two of them like a cloak of night sky, shielding the kissing couple from curious eyes as they lingered on the sidewalk, completely lost in one another. A shiver of anticipation ran along Dean’s spine when he felt the gentle flick of Sam’s tongue against his bottom lip, ever so softly letting the younger man deepen the kiss they shared. If it weren’t for Sam’s hands on him Dean was sure he would have soared away.

But the moment was instantly interrupted when a cascade of water sprayed over the two of them, a passing car honking as it turned the corner at high speed. The brothers stared at each other in shock for a long moment – both drenched from head to toe and with flushed mouths from their shared kiss – before Sam’s mouth split into a wide grin as he watched Dean’s wig cling wetly to his face.

Dean sputtered curses after the car’s taillights, flustered as he quickly grasped Sam’s hand and hauled him across the street – not caring of the red crosswalk sign that glowed brightly over their heads when they passed it. Screw _The Notebook,_ kissing in the rain wasn’t as amazing as it had made it up to be.

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers test the limits of their relationship.

It was the quiet creak of the bedroom door that pulls Sam from his sleep. Even though the bunker – with its countless sigils, spells and defenses against the supernatural - is an impenetrable fortress the instincts of a hunter are still rooted deep within him. His eyes remain closed but he listens intently to the gentle sound of bare feet against the floorboards as they slowly approach the side of his bed. When they stop silence follows. The sound of mixed breathing is the only thing breaking the quietness in the dark room. The soft whisper of fabric sliding against skin is what makes Sam open his eyes. The thud that follows when the cloth hits the floor is enough to make him turn onto his back to stare blindly at the other person in the room.

“Dean,” his voice is still rough with sleep as he addresses the older man, waiting for him to reach for the bedside lamp so they can see one another. “Are you OK? What time is it?”

There was is answer. He hears bare feet shift against the floor once more, but it doesn’t sound like his brother is moving away. The silence stretches between them for another heartbeat before Sam calls out his name once more, but he is yet again met with a wall of silence. A creak of bedsprings and the slight dip of his mattress is the only answer he gets as his brother crawls into bed with him, his body heat radiating through the sheets still covering Sam.

“Dean, why aren’t you-,” whatever words would have been spoken were banished by the gentle press of Dean’s lips upon his. Even though there was a certain dominance to the kiss it still remained sweet and soft, gently coaxing Sam’s mind and body to relax as he lets himself melt back into the mattress, gladly exchanging sleepy kisses with the older man. When Dean’s lips parted he could taste the faint burn of whiskey on his palette, along with the near overpowering toothpaste that was clearly used in an attempt to mask the liquor. He doesn’t mind the least and gladly parts his own lips so they could share a deeper kiss, ignoring the soft grunt his brother makes when he met the sour taste of sleep once their tongues touch.

He reaches up to gently run his warm hands along his brother’s toned biceps, stroking down along the smooth skin until he could slide his fingers along Dean’s hands, squeezing them where they still rested against Sam’s shoulders. He feels him shift and soon he found Dean straddling his hips, hovering slightly over him with his strong thighs pressed against Sam’s narrow hips. The heat of his bare skin seeped through the thin sheets sends a shiver down Sam’s spine. A gentle groan is shared between the two of them when Sam lets his teeth drag lightly over his brother’s plush bottom lip.

It was the burning need for air that had the two brothers parting – both gasping quietly for breath as they clung to one another – but it didn’t take long for Dean’s mouth to descend upon Sam’s neck. A surprised moan escapes Sam, but it doesn’t take long for him to melt into the affection. The softness was so starkly different to what Sam had grown accustomed to except from his brother. Usually they would both be rough – biting, marking and kisses so rough that their lips were bruised afterwards – but now Dean seemed content to take it slow, teeth only barely grazing Sam’s throat.  It’s enough to nearly leave him breathless.

While Dean focuses his attention on his brother’s long neck Sam allows his hands to wander, once more stroking up along his brother’s toned arms before sliding back to touch his shoulders. His skin is warm to the touch, smooth as he slowly drags his calloused palms down along the planes of Dean’s bare back. He feels a soft intake of breath against his skin, a quick exhale and then suction at the junction of his neck. The burn that follows prompts a low moan from him, the promise of a mark making heat pool in the depths of his stomach. He lets his fingertips trace along small scars on Dean’s back, some from cuts and one or two even from a stray bullet. The touches are gentle – almost worshiping – and he takes his time touching every single one as his hands make their slow descend towards his brother’s hips, bringing them downwards so Dean could fully straddle him.

But once his hands came to rest upon Dean’s hips he felt his muscles tense, body taut like a cat ready to flee. His hands dropped from his brother’s body as if they had been scalded.

“Dean,” his voice is soft, non-accusing. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

He feels Dean’s fingers tighten briefly against his shoulders. A quiet but sharp intake of breath echoes in his ears as Dean swings his leg over Sam’s body so he could sit beside him instead, sheets a thin barrier between the two of them. Even though Dean was never good at expressing himself through words he knew just how to put his point across with just looks and touches. Sam had had over three decades to learn how to read him.

“I don’t want to do this with you if you’re uncertain Dean. There’s no pressure to-,”

“It’s just so strange to me,” Dean interrupts, his voice quiet as he finally speaks up for the first time since he stepped into his brother’s bedroom. He clears his throat once before continuing. “I’m used to sex on the first date, but with you I feel like we’re basically waiting for marriage.”

“Dean you know I would never,-“

“I know Sam – please, just let me talk? You always moan at me to open up, so just. Let me. OK?”

Sam nods, even though he knows his brother cannot see it.

“I’m not good at taking it slow – or, at least I’m not used to doing it. It’s adding to the list of new things I have to get used to with this, and to be honest... I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. Parts of me are screaming at me to push things further, but then there are others holding me back.” There’s a slight break as Dean sucks in a breath, teeth clicking quietly as he chose his words. “I feel like... I’m stepping into some great unknown and that worries me. Usually I’m the one who knows all the twists and turns – you know, what to say and do, when to do it and how to do it. But with you, I feel like I’m at a loss.”

“You’re saying that as if I’m some sort of expert on the field,”

“No, Sam–,” Dean sighs quietly and shifts once more to release some of the nervous energy pent up inside of him. “I’ve went from sleeping with a woman only a few hours after I’ve first met her to near celibacy for several months, and I can’t help but blame you finding out about -. I’m just, I’m starting to wonder whether or not you still want me that way after you found out about me.”

Silence stretched between them for a long moment before Sam finally clears his throat, pushing his hands against the mattress so he could move to a more seated position. “Do you mind if I turn on the light?”

There was a brief moment of hesitation before Dean made a soft noise of acceptance. Sam reached across the bed to find the switch for the small lamp on his nightstand. The room was soon bathed in a soft yellow light, both brothers squinting as their eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. Sam turned to face his brother, blurred gaze travelling over his half-naked body before he settled it on his face, his uneasy expression coming into focus. Without hesitation he reached for his hands.

“I do want you, Dean. What I discovered hasn’t made me want you any less,” he smiles fondly at the uncertain man and gently caresses the back of his hand with his thumb, watching as Dean slowly but surely started to calm down, “but we’re only just starting to settle into something that feels right – that feels healthy – and that takes some time. I know things are moving a lot slower than what we’re both used to, but I honestly think that’s what we need in this case. We just need to let things take the time they need. Besides, I don’t think I’m quite ready to take the final step yet – even though I do want you.”

Dean watched Sam’s earnest expression for a long moment before he offered him a small nod. He turned his hand over so he could slide his fingers in between Sam’s, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as they sat in companionable silence for a moment more.

“I should probably head to bed then,” Dean says with a soft chuckle and offers his younger brother a small smile, “I can’t keep you up all night just for handholding.”

“You don’t have to go back to your own bed,” his fingers instinctively twitched around his brother’s hand. It seemed strange to part ways now that they had finally put everything on the table. There were no doubts between them, no secrets. Just because they couldn’t make a leap of progress tonight it didn’t mean they couldn’t take a small step. “Why don’t you spend the night here with me?”

Dean seemed at a loss for words. He opened his mouth to speak, closing it after a brief moment and instead settled to briefly nip at his bottom lip. His gaze wandered to the walls, to the sparse decorations in Sam’s room and then back to the soft bedsheets. Wordlessly he let go of his brother’s hand and let himself stretch out on the mattress, reaching for the sheets so he could draw them up and over his shoulders. Sam couldn’t help but smile when he reached for the bedside lamp once again, bathing the room in comforting darkness before he let himself sink back under his sheets.

Sam closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the comforts of his bed, the familiar presence of his brother making him feel even safer in this quiet space of his. Even though he was glad to finally have what he had been denied throughout most of his life – a space that he could well and truly call his own – he had to admit that he missed the familiar noises and the security he felt when Dean was in the same room as him. After all, they had spent nearly every night of their lives sleeping in the same room.

“Are we going to cuddle too?”

Sam couldn’t help but laugh, turning onto his side so he could look towards his older brother, reaching out to gently rest his hand on Dean’s arm. “Well - if you would like to I won’t tell anyone that you asked.”

A few seconds passed before he felt Dean’s fingers close around his hand, pulling his arm towards him so he could slide closer to Sam’s chest. His arm came to rest atop the sheets, stretched across his brother’s shoulder so Dean had plenty of room to press closer if he wanted. When he felt Dean slide in to rest his forehead against his clavicle he couldn’t help but smile, head tipping down so he could press a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

“If anyone asks, you were the little spoon, bitch.”

“I love you too, jerk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this story - make sure to check out the great artist behind the wonderful drawings at http://crystaljensen.tumblr.com/post/139281486753/reverse-bang-2015-spare-me-your-secrets-this-is


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